eudorapatch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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redshiftrp2019-07-15 02:51 pm
eudorapatch) wrote in redshiftrp2019-07-15 02:51 pm
[viedo] - open - username: det.patch
[ Patch thinks she's figured out how to broadcast to the network from the terminal screen in her room. She actually begins transmitting before she realizes, and there are a few candid moments of her checking settings along the edge of the screen, clearing her throat, running one hand through her hair and sweeping a few stray strands of her long bangs back behind her ear. ]
Hello, Anchor. My name is Detective Patch.
We've, ah, been through a lot these last two weeks. I can't be the only one who's had to suspend a lot of my disbelief to wrap my head around this place. It feels unreal. Part of me want to embrace that, to cling to the assertion that this can't be happening, and let that be a comfort. I don't think it'll be productive, though. I think our best method of accepting any new situation is to connect with others in the same situation.
I know, easier said than done. Opening up is never easy, especially to a stranger... so I'll go first.
[ She takes a deep breath. ]
I died. Back home. I was shot in the back - good shot. Center mass, a little left of the sternum. I bled out quickly. It didn't hurt much. I never really dwelt on the idea of my own violent death, but I always knew there was a strong chance of it in my line of work, and I knew that a gunshot would be top of the list of possible causes. I'd always assumed it would hurt... so much more than it did.
[ She takes another deep breath. ]
So I died, which I was... sort of prepared for. Then I woke up here. I was not at all prepared for that. I'm still not. I don't know if anyone else here has had a similar experience, has died in their own world. I don't know if anyone else is having trouble processing it. If you are, you're not alone. Which also means that I'm not alone, and I have to tell you-- that's a comforting thought.
If you'd like to talk about it, I'd-- like to hear about it. Maybe we can help each other.
[ A beat. She clears her throat again, and her posture gets a little bit straighter. ]
Maybe we can all help each other. The most important thing for us to remember, for us all to remember, is that we're not alone in this place. We're not going through this alone. We can get through this. We just need to take care of one another.
If there is anything I can do for you. If you need someone to talk to, or you want to go looking for something but you're afraid to go on your own, I'm here for you. Literally right here.
[ She uses both hands, index fingers extended, to point down at her feet, and the floor she's standing on. ]
I'm in room zero-two-zero, if you'd rather talk face to face, or if you need in person help with something else. It doesn't matter if we don't know each other. I still want to help.
[ And now she's not sure what to do. Other than end her broadcast. So she nods her head, just once, and offers the camera a little hopeful smile. ]
All right. Detective Patch, signing off, and... hoping to hear from you.
[ Then her hand reaches out toward the camera, right above the screen on her wall, and her feed goes dark. ]
Hello, Anchor. My name is Detective Patch.
We've, ah, been through a lot these last two weeks. I can't be the only one who's had to suspend a lot of my disbelief to wrap my head around this place. It feels unreal. Part of me want to embrace that, to cling to the assertion that this can't be happening, and let that be a comfort. I don't think it'll be productive, though. I think our best method of accepting any new situation is to connect with others in the same situation.
I know, easier said than done. Opening up is never easy, especially to a stranger... so I'll go first.
[ She takes a deep breath. ]
I died. Back home. I was shot in the back - good shot. Center mass, a little left of the sternum. I bled out quickly. It didn't hurt much. I never really dwelt on the idea of my own violent death, but I always knew there was a strong chance of it in my line of work, and I knew that a gunshot would be top of the list of possible causes. I'd always assumed it would hurt... so much more than it did.
[ She takes another deep breath. ]
So I died, which I was... sort of prepared for. Then I woke up here. I was not at all prepared for that. I'm still not. I don't know if anyone else here has had a similar experience, has died in their own world. I don't know if anyone else is having trouble processing it. If you are, you're not alone. Which also means that I'm not alone, and I have to tell you-- that's a comforting thought.
If you'd like to talk about it, I'd-- like to hear about it. Maybe we can help each other.
[ A beat. She clears her throat again, and her posture gets a little bit straighter. ]
Maybe we can all help each other. The most important thing for us to remember, for us all to remember, is that we're not alone in this place. We're not going through this alone. We can get through this. We just need to take care of one another.
If there is anything I can do for you. If you need someone to talk to, or you want to go looking for something but you're afraid to go on your own, I'm here for you. Literally right here.
[ She uses both hands, index fingers extended, to point down at her feet, and the floor she's standing on. ]
I'm in room zero-two-zero, if you'd rather talk face to face, or if you need in person help with something else. It doesn't matter if we don't know each other. I still want to help.
[ And now she's not sure what to do. Other than end her broadcast. So she nods her head, just once, and offers the camera a little hopeful smile. ]
All right. Detective Patch, signing off, and... hoping to hear from you.
[ Then her hand reaches out toward the camera, right above the screen on her wall, and her feed goes dark. ]
video | private
You're welcome, of course. You're another of Diego's brothers?
[ He must be. She's only died once. ]
There isn't any debt. I appreciate the offer, and the sincerity of it, more than I can say, but you do not have to feel any obligation to me. I did my job. I'd do it again... even knowing what I know. [ Huff. Wry smile. ] I'd bring a hell of a lot more backup, but I'd do it again.
[ He seems to know her. She doesn't know him. She's trying so desperately to place his face, but she can't. She supposes he could be Number Six, but Number Six has been gone for a long time. He was gone long before Patch ever even met Diego. ]
I am so sorry, you seem to know me... I don't recognize you. Please forgive me if we've met before. I'm usually so good with faces, but I can't-- place yours.
no subject